Until We Meet Again

Chronique

Among the nearly countless supporting roles Sy Smith has filled since the 1990s, from backing vocalist for Whitney Houston to longtime focal member of trumpeter Chris Botti's ensemble, the five-octave contemporary soul singer has been a key Foreign Exchange associate. She's on a couple of the group's releases, solo projects by co-founders Nicolay and Phonte, and each of Zo!'s albums for the like-named label, up to and including Abstractions, the musician's collaboration with Tall Black Guy. Smith's sixth album is a natural convergence. It's a Foreign Exchange release, produced almost entirely by the Abstractions duo, with Phonte serving as executive producer. Whereas Smith produced the music and played multiple instruments on her earlier self-issued LPs, here she sticks mostly to producing and arranging all the vocals -- counting the work of six backing singers worthy of being singled out -- and, as usual, flexes as a songwriter. Until We Meet Again is Smith's tidiest album yet. It opens in swirling, scatting homage to a loved one and closes in adoring tribute to family and friends she has lost. In between are love songs of varying complementary shades, shifting from lively ballads on the first half to largely uptempo material on the second half. The sides subtly pivot from the show-stopping-level "Always Pick Up for You" to the pulse-quickening circular groove of "Slide," both songs colored by Pirahnahead's Soulchestra strings. After the rolling "Masterclass" (featuring Sheila E.'s percussion and Leo Amuedo's acoustic guitar), one of a couple songs with a strong Brazilian flavor, there are a couple of hip-hop soul pearls in the nostalgic "Summer of '93" and the blooming "All the Ways." Smith dazzles from top to bottom with the fluidity of her lilting voice, her whistle register ever liable to provoke involuntary exclamations from anyone within earshot. On the first side's self-produced "Why Do You Keep Calling Me," she's a stealth songbird of prey, sweetly poised if cross-examining, deceptively gleeful while remarking, "She seems like the kind of girl you really need if mediocrity is your thing." Then she really puts her foot down on the pesky behavior of her subject -- who wants only a secret rendezvous -- belting and then unleashing upon him a whistle-tone scream conveying frustration with more power than a curse through clenched teeth. Mercy.

© Andy Kellman /TiVo